Unimaginable Evil
by The Pudding Fiend
Summary: There is only one thing in the world that can make the unflappable Professor Layton snap like a twig. It is even more insidious, more diabolical than any villain he has ever encountered. It is...
1. Layton

DISCLAIMER: As much as I'd want to, I don't own Professor Layton. (cries)

I just bought Professor Layton and the Curious Village a few days ago and I was surprised at how addicting this game is. Layton is my hero!

This fic is courtesy of a rather odd conversation I had with my sister. Be warned, crack ahead!

* * *

The package sat on the table. The box was covered in bright colours, its text announcing its contents proudly. It was of the sort found in supermarkets all over the world. Luke couldn't see what was wrong with it. It looked innocent enough, no different from the boxes of sweets that he got for himself from time to time, whenever he had the money for it. He reached a hand for the box, so that he could have a closer look.

"Don't touch it!"

Luke started, nearly falling out of his chair. He adjusted his hat, staring wide-eyed at Layton. The professor dangled the box from two fingers as if it were dangerous, glaring venomously at it. Luke had never seen Layton so livid; not when he had to deal with irritating townspeople who had nothing better to do with their time than to drop random puzzles on complete strangers, not when people compared him to a crayon. It had been Luke who had bristled at the comments, outraged that anyone would dare treat the professor in such a manner.

The professor dropped the package back onto the table. He eyed his hand, grimacing. Luke inspected the box, wondering what on earth could have put the professor in such a state. Garish letters wrote: _'Instant Iced Tea'_. The boy frowned. Instant tea? What was that? He had never heard of such a thing. Oh, he knew very well what tea was, since the professor was quite fond of it (he hadn't developed a taste for it just yet—but he was working on it! A true English gentleman knew how to appreciate tea and he would be a gentleman one day, after all). What was _instant_ tea, though? Was it some bizarre tea leaf that didn't take as long to seep?

"Professor, what is this 'instant tea'?" Luke inquired curiously, hesitantly poking the package. "I've never seen anything like this before."

"_That_ is the personification of evil, Luke," Layton declared, snatching the offending object decisively and marched over to a rubbish bin, dropping it in. "It is a powdered blend of artificial sweeteners, gaudy colours and..." He paused to take a breath, bracing himself. "_Synthetic tea_."

Luke blinked, confused. "I didn't know that you could make artificial tea, professor. I thought you got tea by boiling tree leaves."

"And so it should be, my boy!" Layton grabbed Luke's narrow shoulders, shaking him. "They make that _mockery_ of a long-respected and enjoyable beverage! They dare call that atrocity _tea_ and market it to unknowing North Americans as if it were the real thing! It has spread all over the known world, corrupting the taste buds of the world's youth!"

"Professor, please calm down!" Luke cried, having had quite enough of having his brain being forcefully sloshed about his skull.

"Yes, forgive me, my boy." Layton stopped shaking his apprentice, breathing deeply through his nose. His jaw worked, muscles twitching; his left eye had also developed a twitch. "I just—I cannot understand how anyone could _drink_ that stuff! It is a travesty of epic proportions! It is a mystery that plagues my thoughts day and night!"

"Then...what should we do, professor?" Luke asked, wondering if he would regret opening his mouth.

A disturbing gleam appeared in Layton's eyes. "We shall solve that mystery! Oh yes, and when we have discovered the key of their marketing success, we shall put an end to that sham!" He grabbed hold of Luke's hand, dragging him off down the street.

"Wait! Professor!" Luke stumbled along, trying to keep up with Layton's pace. It appeared that opening his big mouth had been a stupid idea, after all. Oh well, so long as there were no ferris wheels involved, he was going to be alright. He hoped.

"Come, my boy! To the cannon!"

...Never mind, scratch that. He was doomed.

* * *

Never get in between a Brit and his tea. That also holds true for North Americans and their coffee.

So, review? Please?


	2. Luke

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Professor Layton. Level-5, if I ask really nicely, could I get Layton and Mah Boi for Christmas? I don't own Gravol either.

Thanks for the lovely reviews! Cookies for everyone!

This fic is also the product of a conversation between my sister and I. Don't ask me where she got this idea.

* * *

It was a fair day at the carnival, perfect for an afternoon of fun and greasy food. The professor had brought Luke to the carnival as a treat. "Even an English gentleman must have some time to relax every so often," Layton had said. It wasn't often that they could take a break like this, given the professor's busy schedule. When he wasn't lecturing at the university, the professor was marking papers and checking Luke's homework. That wasn't even including the times when a mystery in some little village in the countryside called the two away.

The carnival had been Layton's idea; he had found an ad in the newspaper. Luke had agreed enthusiastically, happy to spend some time that didn't include puzzles with his beloved mentor. So far, Luke had ingested about half his body weight's worth of grease and sugar. The professor had politely declined trying the deep-fried marshmallow on a stick when offered, preferring to keep his stomach lining in one piece. He had brought along a thermos of tea—the real stuff, of course—and a small bag full of digestible food. A box of Gravol had been thoughtfully included in the bag. Greasy food played havoc on one's digestive system, as Luke would undoubtedly find out in a few hours. The professor's top hat drew some odd stares, but otherwise it was ignored.

Several hours, a hidden puzzle and a Gravol later, Luke was exhausted. The sun was beginning to set, reminding carnival-goers that they had meetings at 7:00 AM sharp the next morning. Luke was starting to droop, having spent his energy reserves. Layton guided his self-proclaimed apprentice to the parking lot, where the Laytonmobile awaited. It had been a long day for both of them, although not for the same reasons. Luke had spent much of the day yelling his delight as he was swung up, down, left, right and diagonally on the rides. Layton had been besieged by random passerbys and carnival workers wanting him to solve puzzles. It was as if he wore a bright, flashing sign above his head saying: "Professor of archaeology and master puzzle solver here! Kindly interrupt my day to ask me to solve random puzzles that have absolutely no relevance to your life!" He liked puzzles; that he would admit freely. But, for the love of God, even _he_ needed a rest from solving puzzles all the time!

The professor halted his internal ranting before it got too out of hand again. He turned to Luke, hoping to distract himself, only to find empty space. He scratched his head, looking about. Where was he? Layton could've sworn that Luke was right by his side...Aha! A blue cap behind that trash can! He walked over, confirming that it was indeed Luke who was huddled there.

"Luke, my boy, whatever is the matter?" Layton asked, crouching so that he was at eye level to Luke. His apprentice had a terrified look on his face, arms wrapped tightly around his knees. The professor had never seen Luke look so frightened before. He reached out to pat Luke's head. "Tell me what's scared you so."

Luke's eyes darted from side-to-side, looking like a frightened animal. He leaned close to the professor, who obliged by bending towards Luke. "It can see me, Professor! It's going to eat me!"

Layton frowned. "What can see you?"

Luke grasped the lapels of Layton's coat, pulling him forcefully down. He was much stronger than Layton had given him credit for, given that he was rather stringy. "The _ferris wheel_. It knows that I'm here. It's going to crush my bones and then it's going to _eat me_!"

"...Luke, why do you think that the ferris wheel is going to eat you?" Layton asked after a moment's pause. This didn't have anything to do with the incident at St. Mystere, did it? It seemed that Luke had come away far more scarred than he had realized.

"It can _smell_ me, Professor! It knows!" Layton looked at his diminutive apprentice worriedly. Luke sounded like he was only a few moments from hysteria. It was best to leave the matter until a later time. Layton scooped the boy up, carrying Luke like a sack of shaky, sweaty potatoes to the car. Not exactly the most gentlemanly thing to do, but given the circumstances, he doubted that Luke could walk on his own.

"It'scomingit'scomingit'sgoingtoeatmeIdon'twannabesquishedProfessor!"

A spot of therapy might do Luke some good, thought the professor. Yes, it might do quite nicely.

* * *

And so, poor Luke had a phobia of ferris wheels that lasted well into his adult life.

Review, please and thank you!


	3. The Ultimate Evil

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Professor Layton series.

I can't wait for Professor Layton and the Unwound Future! :D Yay, Legal Luke!

* * *

"It can't be!"

"Nooo, Professor! It's horrible!"

Flora stood in the doorway, mouth set in a puzzled frown. She had just come home from a walk in the nearby park to find the house in chaos. Luke was cowering behind an armchair, which had been flipped over so as to better shield him. The Professor, normally the most calm of people, was yelling and pacing agitatedly.

On the table was a cup. Painted on the cup was an assortment of ferris wheels, with small letters painted neatly beside each one. Flora picked up the cup, sniffing delicately. A sweet smell met her nose, with a dash of artificial lemon flavouring. She took a sip, ignoring the outcry of "Flora, don't drink that!" and "It's going to _eat _me!" from behind her. She smacked her lips, peering into the cup. Whatever she had just drank, it wasn't anything that she recognized. There was now a cloying aftertaste in her mouth. Perhaps this was the 'instant tea' that the Professor had warned her about.

Flora shrugged. She took the cup, pouring the contents into the pot of a nearby fern. The cup went in the rubbish bin, where it belonged. Honestly, what was the commotion about? It was just a cup and some instant tea. Nothing to worry about—although, where _had_ the ferris wheel cup and its contents come from anyhow? The Professor normally made sure to keep his house completely free of anything relating to instant tea and ferris wheels.

-(^_^)-

In a pair of bushes outside of the Professor's house, Don giggled.


End file.
